Chapter 59
The Sound of Motion
Ken settled onto a mossy log, his reserves stabilized, his mind clear.
As clear as it could be anyways.
That Rock Spider fight exposed my fatal flaw.
“I’m basically blind, and melee only.”
Images flashed through his mind.
Beefy armored characters, endlessly chasing teleporting mages, taking fireballs and spinning hammers to the face.
A sigh blew like a pressure relief valve.
“Well that's not good.”
Focusing his senses outward, he tried to get a feel for something, anything.
Nothing.
A shake of his head.
“Might as well be staring at a goat.”
He placed his hands flat against the log he sat on, straightening his back, spine popping.
At least my constant back pain is gone.
That's somethin’.
He analyzed the complex weave obstructing his pathways.
Eddies formed in the river of chi, fighting through the lattice pattern.
Momentum stalled.
Shit is just gumming up the works.
He started cycling, ramping up the effort, trying to break down the foreign structures.
Ropes fighting the flow of a raging river.
Pressure built, bands of force straining.
The first stand gave way, starting a cascading collapse.
The pieces crumbled, dissolving in the wave of chi that was let loose.
The erratic energy surged through his channels in spurts, further straining his tired body.
Ever so slowly the high pressure bursts evened out, into a more familiar, smoother flow.
With one more surging wave, it lurched home.
His Core shone just a tad brighter.
Chi burst forth, just a hair faster.
Fuck that hurt.
Grind one day at a time.
You're used to this.
“Pretty soon I'll only want chi that feels good… first world tutorial problems.”
Soon enough, as usual, thoughts returned to his shortcomings.
“There’s not a damn thing I can do about the range situation, except just be faster.”
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His mind flashed back to the swordsgoblin fight,
“Unless I start throwing some shit..”
His eyes wandered.
They roamed over the terrifying, curled, spider corpses.
The acrid smell still lingered in the air.
He traced a screaming hawk, flying overwatch, a distant speck high above.
He thought about a bear tearing its way out of a mountain.
A sword wielding goblin, peering and smirking at his weak seed.
“It feels like everything has a better grasp than me…”
He felt a pit of dread at the thought of falling behind on an endless treadmill, everything growing smaller, as it pulled farther and farther ahead.
He punched his fist down, crumbling the right side of the log on which he sat.
A couple nearby song birds took flight, squawking their indignation.
Didn't even know they were there…
He struggled to swallow past the cold hard knot in his throat.
“Quit being a bitch.”
He punched his left fist down, destroying decaying wood.
The rest of the log crumbled beneath him, and he found himself lying on his back, looking at the sky.
“As good a spot as any, for unraveling the mysteries of the Universe.”
So he lay, looking up at the sky.
Theories formed.
Threads followed.
Ideas flared from an electrical storm of firing synapses…
Only to die a cold death.
“I fucking got nothing, man..”
He tapped his chin.
“Maybe I'll just yell real loud then I can just assume shit is always coming for me…”
He glanced at the remote wilds surrounding him.
“It's a plan. Better reserve that for a back up.”
So he did the one thing he knew he could do.
His Core spun to life.
Then he ramped up the velocity.
His jaw creaked, as a tooth chipped.
His chi a streamlined river of torment.
Faster.
He reached a new threshold of pain, one he didn't realize was there.
Always.. growing..
It flowed, both life and death, pounding in understanding.
Cells were destroyed and rebirthed in droves.
Faster.
Blurring the line between himself and his Affinity.
The moment his chi hit a crescendo, he felt a click.
His senses expanded.
The world didn't just appear, it hummed.
He wasn't seeing the hawk, he was feeling the pressure wave of its wings against the wind.
The same wind that rippled from the flap of a butterfly.
The same wind that blew through every leaf, every blade of grass.
The whole world crashed into his brain.
“AAAAWWW SHIT!”
He slammed his eyelids shut, as the sunlight lanced through his throbbing head.
The taste of iron was on his tongue.
Blood ran from his nose, streaming down the sides of his cheeks.
I'm glad I was lying down.
“Too much... aim smaller… mother fucker...”
Motionless, laying in a pile of crumbled wood, he slowly recovered.
And tried again.
With chi flowing through him, he found his center, and the sensations came easier.
Air currents shifted.
The Hawk diving in the rocky field.
A rabbit bursting away.
He tracked the hawk post-miss, eyes closed, as it jetted skyward.
It streaked, starting to get to the edge of his graspable range.
Then it vanished.
He opened his eyes.
It perched, fifty yards away, preening a wing.
He blinked in confusion.
It's momentum.
I can only sense stuff if it's moving.
“Well that's not good.”
He grinned, teeth red, as he spit to the side.
“Oh well, my Momentum Tuning technique beats nothing.”
I'm so good at naming things it's scary.
